


Maybe it’s true (I’m caught up on you)

by beloniika



Series: Maybe it’s true (I’m caught up on you) [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, Richfucks, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beloniika/pseuds/beloniika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If asked, Baekri would tell you that the most memorable event of her life was winning a contest dedicated to her favorite girl group and spending a day with them. In reality, she'd put it on the same level as her first meeting with her boyfriend, Chanyeol: it's just convenient that it happened on the same day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Player #1: Baekri

**Author's Note:**

> please check the [series description](http://archiveofourown.org/series/347984) for more or less important info to know before reading~

“I’ll be on a break!”

Baekri all but sprints to the backroom, without giving the head server the time to reply or possibly stop her. She passes the threshold with hunched shoulders, walks to her locker to retrieve her phone, then gets to the couch almost on her knees and flattens herself on it, not quite smothering herself but she _is_ tempted. It has been a long day at the restaurant and difficult customers never failed to pop up: one would expect a respectable restaurant like the one she works at would have equally decent clients, but no such luck.

Baekri has only ten minutes to rest and she still has to take a leak, so she drags herself to the toilet, where she sits for the remainder of her break with her panties pooled at her ankles and her phone with a bulky Minnie Mouse case in her hands. The first app she taps is her email where, among some spam that managed to sneak past the filters and some college related ones, Baekri spots a familiar name in one of the objects.

> **CJ E &M**   --   A SONG FOR SOSHI - WINNER ANNOUNCED

With trepidation, Baekri opens it.

> **CONGRATULATIONS!**
> 
> MISS **BYUN BAEK RI** , You are the lucky **WINNER** of our contest   **A SONG FOR SOSHI**!
> 
> As a reward, you will be able to spend an afternoon with the members of Girls’ Generation at the **Millennium Seoul Hilton Hotel** in Sowol-ro, Jung-gu, Seoul, on **September 10th** , h. **3PM**...

Baekri is too busy screaming in joy to finish reading. Once she has regained some composure, and conscious her break is almost over, the euphoric girl quickly scans the rest of the email --instructions on how to proceed and an overused spiel just to give a bit of substance to the email; she already read the juicy part, so who cares. A knock on the door startles her.

“Hey, you okay in there?”

Oops. She must’ve shouted too loudly, if one of the other waiters came to check on her.

“Yes, sorry about that--”

“Good, because The Mastiff is fidgety, you better go back,” the disembodied voice of her coworker warns from the other side of the stall. Baekri rolls her eyes and mutters a quick _okay, okay_ before giving a last elated glance at her phone and returning to the dining room with a skip in her step.

  
  


Baekri’s shift is finally over and, after convincing one of the busboys to give her a lift (fluttering eyelashes and strategically placed arms to make her boobs look more enticing may have played a crucial part), she can now melt on her bed, precious smartphone secure in her grasp and email app in the foreground so it’s available every time she unlocks the screen.

She has learned the content of the email by heart, even the parts she didn’t read in her initial euphoria. Now the girl knows she has to sign in her MNET account with a special code provided, accept several conditions of privacy and whatnot, print both that and the winner announcement email and sign them, and show everything to the idols’ manager.

Two days can’t pass fast enough! Luckily, Baekri managed to get her free day for that thursday, with little complaints from the head server, so she can sigh in relief; her only concern is for some asshat to fall ill exactly that day and she’d be called urgently to fill their shift. Fuck that.

(As for her lessons, neither tests nor papers are due that day. She will mooch notes off someone.)

To distract herself from worrying too much about a possible non-issue, Baekri speed-dials her best friend -- being unable to tell Junghwa sooner about the great news has been hell for Baekri, but now she can sQUEAL ANNOYINGLY IN HER FRIEND’S EAR to her heart’s content.

“‘llo?” comes a muffled greeting. Baekri, taken aback, looks at her phone to be sure she didn’t accidentally ring someone else and to belatedly check the time: yeah, it’s not a really appropriate hour to call, but Junghwa should still be up…

“---ri?”

Baekri quickly brings the phone back to her ear. “Junghwa, hey! Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah, but thanks for calling, ‘cause I just fell asleep on my baroque music notes,” Junghwa manages to drawl between a yawn and another.

“Mhm,” Baekri mumbles in half-hearted interest, mind somewhere else. “Oh, hey, have you heard the latest?”

“What?”

“ _I WON THE SOSHI CONTEST!!!_ ” Baekri screeches, uncaring of the fact it’s 2 in the morning and her neighbors have never been her biggest fans. Junghwa, understandably, pulls her phone away from her ear, but the mic catches a chuckle as soon as it’s back in the range.

“I knew you could do it! So, what did you win?” she asks, as if her friend hasn’t described high and low her plans for…

“An afternoon with Girls’ Generation! We would drink tea, gossip about other idols, take many pictures together...” Baekri lists enthusiastically, the stress she felt while preparing for and recording an a capella medley of her favorite songs of the group, as well as the long wait for the contest entries to be scrutinized, a distant memory.

“Please come with me!” she pleads, suddenly nervous at the prospect of meeting her goddesses. Her friend’s gigglesnort was expected. “YAH! Kim Junghwa!”

“Yes, yes!” Junghwa accepts, wiping away tears of mirth, “You’ll tell me more tomorrow, now let me go to sleep.”

“Hmph, okay,” Baekri pouts, but a smile is quick to reappear on her face as she gushes, “Can you believe it? I’m going to be close to Girls’ Generation!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Junghwa snorts playfully, before exaggerating a yawn. “Night, Ri. See you tomorrow.”

“ _Bye_ \--! Little shit, she hung up on me.”


	2. Player #2: Chanyeol

“Good morning, Mr Park!”

Chanyeol shoots a dashing smile to the front desk girl, sending her into a giggling fit when she thinks he’s too far to hear her. He shakes his head with a chuckle and whips out his designer sunglasses as he leaves the hotel he lives at, taking long strides towards the matte black Maserati the valet just parked in front of the building.

“Good morning, Mr Park.”

“Thank you, Jaehyun. Have a nice day.”

Chanyeol drives off; glancing at the rear-view mirror, he spies the valet still smiling at him (lusting after his car, most likely).

Park Chanyeol is a very sought after bachelor: filthy rich heir to the Park Overseas empire, one of the largest South Korean shipping companies; quite the model material, with his long legs and lean physique; handsome and chic, he carries himself with some poise during official events, but is still kind to everyone. It’s a wonder he doesn’t appear more often on gossip magazines after some night of debauchery, rather on financial newspapers thanks to his father’s company’s latest business and his own contributions.

Today, Chanyeol has a business brunch with three representatives of a chinese company they’ve been waltzing around for months to convince them to invest in a partnership. For this semi-formal meeting he’s supported by Lu Han, Park Overseas’ sales representative, who happens to be chinese as well.

“Good morning gentlemen, thank you for coming,” Chanyeol greets in stilted Mandarin and exchanges handshakes.

The maitre d’ leads them to a private room, decorated in exquisite, traditional korean style. This restaurant is one of the many that belong to the family of Chanyeol’s best friend, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol’s go-to place to impress any potential client (Kyungsoo has more than once jokingly asked for a slice of his profits, considering the near perfect percentage of deals finalized there).

Brunch proceeds relaxedly, business affairs momentarily forgotten to enjoy the food and engage in idle chatter translated mostly by Lu Han, who also has the embarrassing task of reporting to Chanyeol the prodding at his private life and yet another marriage proposal, this time on behalf of the daughter of the only bespectacled member of the chinese rep.

Chanyeol is having trouble not straight out laughing in the older men faces; Lu Han as well, having witnessed this every other meeting. Chanyeol lost count of how many businessmen and socialites engaged him in chitchats over a flûte of champagne, only to _casually_ mention or blatantly show photos of their daughters and trying to set him up with their brats, all for the sake of an union of their families that would benefit only them: nope, he’s having none of that.

Skirting the topic as best as they can, Chanyeol and Lu Han distract the guests long enough to finish their coffees and jump straight into business.

  
  


By the time Chanyeol manages to talk the reps into getting in business with Park Overseas and slither his way out of an arranged marriage, it’s well past 2pm. The ghost of a headache starts lurking from a temple to the other; he gives a strained smile to the valet and hurries to the hotel entrance, without paying much attention to an agitated girl and her tired friend standing by the bushes outlining the tiled path that leads to the hotel.

Chanyeol is heading straight for the elevators when he hears his name being called: emerging from the well at the center of the lobby is Yewon, daughter of the head of a small luxury brand, who has been trying to woo him since they were old enough to attend those boring “all business and façade” parties.

(He can sniff out gold diggers from miles away.)

“Chanyeolie!” she exclaims, each hurried click of her stilettos and each tinkling of the damned bells of her bracelet ringing straight through Chanyeol’s ears and brain.

“Yewon,” he greets flatly, his lips barely lifting in a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Dad had a meeting with some japanese investors but the translator got sick this morning, so he asked me to fill in pretty last minute,” she explains with a sour expression. Surely her father ruined her plans to get her hair and nails done, poor girl...

“What about grabbing some coffee and a slice of the millefeuille you like so much?” Yewon suggests, playfully pulling him towards the revolving doors. Chanyeol can’t help but stiffen when she hooks their arms together and looks up at him, batting her eyelashes. He gulps when he catches a whiff of her sickly sweet and floral, expensive perfume, that adds to his budding headache.

“I’m really sorry, I have a Skype interview in a few, so unfortunately I have to go,” he lies, disguising his wistful side look at the elevators for a regretful one at being unable to spend time together.

Yewon whines and puffs her cheeks out in what’s supposed to be a cute and endearing way to make Chanyeol cave, with the result of making him resent her even more. When the girl finally sees nothing is working, she sighs and detaches herself from Chanyeol, who represses the urge to dance on the spot.

“Okay…Talk to you soon, then!” Yewon is irked her plans to spend some time with Chanyeol seldom work, but bids goodbye chipperly regardless. She goes for a quick hug and sneaks a feather-like kiss on his cheek, then sashays to the exit and turns to wave one last time.

Chanyeol’s smile is a bit more genuine when Yewon leaves -- _because she’s leaving_. Once he’s sure she has left the hotel, he exhales in relief for dodging a chatty and flirty bullet, and wipes the faint smudge of lipstick on his face as best as he can.

He can finally head back home: as the heir of Park Overseas, Chanyeol can live in a stunning penthouse in one of the most exclusive hotels of South Korea, overlooking the city of Seoul, with its private elevator and all the comforts.

Chanyeol has just confirmed the secret code on the keypad and pressed the button to the penthouse, when he hears some commotion in the lobby. The doors are already sliding closed; he glances up in curiosity and finds himself not alone anymore, a flurry of pretty girl appearing in front of him after she manages to sneak in the elevator, leaving her friend behind.

Chanyeol bites his lips to stop a bubbling laugh: it’s going to be interesting.


	3. First impressions

Thursday afternoon sees Baekri and Junghwa step in front of the hotel where the older girl’s prize awaits her and that will take place in 45 minutes.

(Not without difficulties did Junghwa manage to talk her friend out of taking the morning train--they live on the outskirts of the capital, for goodness sake, not some isolated village in the middle of the mountains. Bless high speed trains and subway.)

 _Only_ 45 minutes before Baekri’s dream will come true: she’s pumped, she’s dressed prettily, she’s confident!

...She’s a nervous mess. Baekri keeps taking two steps forward and five backwards, wringing alternatively the innocent hem of her flowery dress, the rolled up sleeves of her white shirt, or the strap of her bag. When that isn’t enough, she grabs Junghwa’s arm and shakes it, jumping on the spot and squealing a bit pitifully, to be honest.

With a long suffering eye roll, Junghwa checks her phone, shocked to discover 15 minutes of this dance have already passed. Not wanting to be scrutinized by the passersby for another half hour thanks to her uncharacteristically anxious friend, she pulls a spluttering Baekri (“I’m not ready yet!”) to the hotel entrance and past the revolving doors--

They stop dead in their tracks, slack-jawed in front of the luxury of the lobby alone, bright and spacious, with expensive and polished materials of the floors and furniture. Shock therapy must work on Baekri, at least, because she suddenly snaps out of her nervousness and stalks confidently towards the front desk to ask for directions.

She’s taking out of her bag the instructions she printed, when an elevator dings in the lobby and someone steps in. Baekri rushes forward, throwing a “Come on, Junghwa!” over her shoulder and narrowly entering the car, doors sliding silently behind her.

“AH! No, wait! That one is for--” Junghwa calls out when she notices her friend running towards an elevator labeled ‘private’, but she was too slow, the doors closing on her face. The last thing she sees is a tall guy looking surprised and amused at her idiotic friend; she sighs and flops on the ( _‘damn, so comfortable, light years from my own!’_ ) couch situated opposite the front desk, and waits.

Inside the elevator, Baekri looks confused at the spot where her friend’s face once was and blinks. She throws a bashful and awkward “elevator smile” at the other passenger when she feels him staring at her, but she quickly looks down at the sheet of paper in her hand to read what floor she’s supposed to go to and presses the button accordingly.

A nondescript jingle fills the elevator. The jitteriness of earlier reappears like a punch to Baekri’s stomach, intensified by the awkward silence in that confined space. She finds herself transfixed on the control panel, looking at each button lighting up excruciatingly slowly, yet they’re getting inexorably closer and closer to her favorite girl group in the whole universe.

Once the number 11 lights up, Baekri steps in front of the doors, already half bent to throw a quick farewell bow to her silent companion before heading to the room where her idols are waiting for her, but...the elevator doesn’t stop.

As if a switch was flipped, the young man starts laughing really loudly, even slapping his own knees and clapping. Baekri gapes at him, mildly disconcerted by such a lunatic behavior coming from someone dressed to the nines and able to afford his stay in this luxurious place; bemused, she twists towards the control panel and starts pressing insistently the button to her destination, but it’s no use.

“What the fuck?!” she shrieks--the stranger’s manic laugh and squinty eye don’t make her feel exactly at ease. “Are you trying to kidnap me?!”

He was starting to look less red and out of breath when Baekri’s question causes what can only be described as a meltdown, from the drawn out gasps to the amused tears and suddenly weak legs, making him unable to grace the girl of an answer.

“Stop laughing!” She stomps her foot petulantly. “I’ll let you know that I may be small, but I can defend myself! I know hapkido!” she threatens, her hands balled in fists at her sides and body unconsciously starting to take a defensive stance, looking dead in the eyes of the nut job she’s confined with.

“Okay…” he finally whispers with a face-splitting grin. Oh, if he’s thinking _‘sure you do, honey’_ he’s so gonna get his ass handed back to him…

Baekri is _this close_ to growl in building irritation. Realizing it’s realistically too cramped to pull one of her moves, she rummages through her bag to fish out her secret weapon.

“I have pepper spray!” she announces, promptly pointing the little tube at the (handsome but) stupid face of her kidnapper with an agitated tinkle of her bracelets. “Let me go!”

“Gosh, fine!” he erupts, partly still entertained, partly concerned about the potential turn for the worse this situation is taking. His deep voice honestly startles Baekri, both because it echoes in the car and because it doesn’t quite match his (now that it’s getting back to normal) quite good-looking face.

He’s about to press the stop button when the elevator dings: they’ve been so busy freaking out (Baekri) and dying laughing (still unnamed guy) that they didn’t notice they reached the penthouse. The doors open into a modern open space, with floor-to-ceiling windows, fancy furniture and electronics, and even a bar, before the young man punches the _lobby_ button a bit too hard.

“You’re stuck with me for another while. I don’t know if you noticed, but this elevator has no intermediate stops,” he taunts, wearing again the mask of chic, young businessman he had when they first met (like, five minutes ago). He leans against the corner diametrically opposite to the one Baekri is standing at, admiring how pretty she looks in her not-summer-anymore-but-not-quite-fall-yet outfit, wavy bob and killer eyeliner. Even when she glares at him as if he were a chewing gum stretching between her shoe and the asphalt.

Baekri throws her hands in the air in exasperation, turning her back to the annoying prick and crossing her arms resolutely. Unbeknownst to him, the brunette girl is biting her lips, trying really hard to stay mad and not be affected by the rumbly voice of an admittedly good looking man. Handsome, a voice to melt for, and also rich? He can’t have everything, it’s not fair.

(Oh, right, he’s an asshole and a weirdo, so she has that going for her: she can resist!)

Baekri keeps staring in front of her, stubbornly avoiding the reflection of her companion on the shiny surface of the elevator doors. No matter how much he wants to chat her up now, she won’t fall for his baits.

“You’re really something...You also must live under a rock…” he chuckles, sliding a bit further down his corner and showing off his long legs and tailored suit, twirling his sunglasses idly.

Dafuq he just said? Also, who does he think he is, being all ~inviting~ like that? Calm down, Ri, just ignore him.

“What brings you here?” the young man asks when she looks again at the pamphlet in her hand and presumably checks the time on her phone.

Baekri bites back a ‘none of your business’. That would defeat all her efforts to not address him.

“You’re so cute. And funny, too,” he compliments, sounding quite sincere all things considered.

“I know. I am,” she confirms confidently. Welp, there it goes her resolution to not feed the troll. He must’ve sensed that’s what she has been trying to do all along, so he sensibly muffles his laugh.

After a few beats of silence, Baekri turns just her head to look at the irritating fella from the corner of the eye and hisses, “You could’ve told me it was the VIP elevator.” After another consideration, she adds, “You could’ve hopped off, you were home. There was no need to escort me down, I knew the way~”

“And miss all this?” he rebuts cheekily.

“You are so--- _ugh_!” she groans, at her wit’s end by now. She’s looking forward to hear the ding to the lobby, that’s going to happen right...about... _now_.

Baekri flees the elevator and hurries to the front desk, where she ~~hopes~~ assumes Junghwa is still waiting for her.

Yep, there she is, sitting with her arms crossed and huffing when she glances up at the clock. She turns when she hears stomping coming her way and jumps on her feet when Baekri finally reappears.

“About time! Security reprimanded me for yelling, damn you. Now hurry, you have less than ten minutes to-- _mmph_!” Junghwa snaps, only to be muffled by Baekri’s hand and dragged towards the right elevator, this time, under the alarmed stare of the desk clerk and the entertained...and...affectionate?...gaze of the same tall guy of earlier.

Baekri taps her foot impatiently while they wait for any of the four elevators she called to finally arrive, her hand still clamped on a growingly frustrated (and embarrassed) Junghwa. The richfuck, tycoon, whoever the hell he is, still lingers around with an ever present smile, humming a song and looking away every time the black haired girl turns to look at him with curious eyes. As expected, the brunette ignores him; during their elevator ride, he learned she’s a stubborn and feisty one.

The elevator to their left finally pings and the girls scurry inside. Baekri smirks satisfied when she presses the button to the 11th floor and the doors start sliding shut on the playful, attractive, now slightly crestfallen face of her alleged abductor.

“Wait! I didn’t catch your name!” he calls out, taking a single long step towards the elevator but without trying to stop it.

“Try with a butterfly net, next time!” she mocks with a saccharine smile, her head cocked coquettishly.

His eyes turn just the tiniest bit bigger and sparklier. “Will there be a next time, then?”

 _Fuck_. “No!”

“My name is Chanyeol, by the way!” he manages to introduce himself ( _about time_ ) just a split second before the doors close and officially end their banter.

“Good for you!” Baekri hollers back, mumbling something unintelligible about assholes, unfairness, and panty-dropping voices.

The elevator is once again quiet, with the two girls still wrapped together awkwardly, but their peace is short lived. Baekri can feel Junghwa’s lips quirk beneath her hand, and it’s never a good sign.

“ _Baekri~~_ ”

Hell no, she knows that tone (even muffled like that). The brunette lets go of Junghwa abruptly and looks anywhere but at the evil glint in her friend’s eyes and at her smug, kittenish grin, willing her cheeks to stop blushing so damn brightly. She’s spared a mischievous comment by the elevator stopping at the requested floor and she all but flings herself outside, walking towards the familiar face of Girls’ Generation’s manager and greeting everybody with a deep bow. Baekri is ushered inside one of the hotel rooms to the stage-whispered, encouraging words of Junghwa, who’s not allowed to enter and who’ll wait for her friend in the lounge downstairs.

Not like Baekri heard a single word her best friend said. Not with eight angels gracing a peasant like Baekri with their presence and smiling sweetly at her from the hotel room arranged for the occasion, with pastries and (you guessed it) tea on the table.

(And yet, a persistent thought about a tall, attractive, and unpredictable man made its rounds through her mind for the whole duration of her long awaited and desired date with Girls’ Generation.)


	4. The Musketeers

It has been quite a ride, with Chanyeol holding his laughter for longer than he thought he would ever be able to and eventually being unable to stop teasing the strange girl who unknowingly trespassed, but the two of them finally make it back to the lobby. Chanyeol calmly walks after the cute yet bold stranger he got stuck in the elevator with for the past (almost) ten minutes, silently gesturing the desk clerk not to call for security when the brunette bodily shuts her friend up and drags her to the elevators.

Chanyeol would hit himself for waiting so long to exchange introductions with the girl, and now that he did he can’t say he’s surprised to be sassed back and still not know her name. One (not really) minuscule part of Chanyeol is expecting the elevator doors to open again for the girl to lash at him one last time, and possibly demonstrate a move or two of hapkido to ‘teach him a lesson’, like she was obviously dying to do. Once it’s clear she’s not coming back, he can finally head to the penthouse, reminiscing the odd events of earlier with a broad and fond smile.

While stepping out of the elevator, Chanyeol could’ve sworn he could still smell the girl’s perfume, lingering in the corner where she has been standing defiantly for the whole ride. Something spicy, something not overbearingly sweet: exactly what he imagines the girl to be.

He slumps on the leather couch, a hand immediately flying to undo his tie. With a content sigh, Chanyeol taps the screen of his phone and facetimes his closest friends: Kyungsoo, whose family leads the south korean food industry; Jongin, 5th generation of traditional dancers, musicians and singers, pride of the nation; Sera, daughter of the CEO of an investment management involved in many fields, from entertainment to politics.

The first to answer the call is Sera, chilling in the middle of her pool with a colorful drink in hand.

“Hi~~” she greets, blindly finding the straw on her first try.

“Dude, it’s september already, aren’t you cold?” Chanyeol asks in sarcasm-laced concern (or concern-laced sarcasm?).

“Summer ain’t over yet, I’m taking advantage of the last rays. And before you comment on my still pasty ass, I can’t help it that I can’t tan a lot,” Sera snarls, slurping her drink noisily just to be annoying.

Chanyeol isn't one to accept his punchlines being stolen from under his nose, but the teasing is interrupted by Jongin and Kyungsoo connecting from the former's phone.

“Hi~” they chorus. “How did it go, Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo asks, at the same time as Sera inquires, “Where are you guys?”

“How do you think it went? Great, of course.” Chanyeol grins winningly, flashing a V sign.

“Namsan Tower,” Jongin replies, shaking the potato wrapped hot dog in his hand.

“You lovebirds disgust me.” Sera makes a face in mock distaste, more entertained by the fact that those two insist there’s nothing between them.

As confusing as it may look to other people, their overlapping conversations are the norm for Chanyeol’s group of friend: whether on the phone or in person, they still manage to keep up with everything being said. This time their intricate exchange, in particular Sera’s prying into Jongin and Kyungsoo’s love life, is cut short by Chanyeol.

“Guys, guys. We can discuss your wedding another time, now I need your help.”

Kyungsoo’s indignant squawk is drowned by Sera’s delighted laugh, that makes Jongin turn an interesting shade of pink.

“So, I just met the prettiest girl, but I don’t know her name,” Chanyeol starts to explain, playing mindlessly with his tie.

“I bet you acted like a jackass,” Kyungsoo observes, while Sera sighs, “How many times do I have to tell you not to laugh like a monkey in front of the girls you want to impress?”

It’s now Chanyeol’s turn to gape and blush, trying to justify himself. Grumbling, he gets to the point of his call.

"I called you guys to tell you about our encounter and ask for your help to track her down and apologize."

“To help you being a stalker, you mean,” Kyungsoo deadpans.

“When did I ever act like that?!” Chanyeol squeaks, mortified.

His friends stay silent, keeping him on his toes. Eventually, Jongin pipes up, “...I’d give him the benefit of the doubt,” talking as if the eldest wasn’t there.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes at who he considers his best friends, jokingly questioning his own choices. He takes a long breath and asks again, “So, are you going to help me or not?”

Kyungsoo, Jongin and Sera have a conversation made only of glances through phone screens, until they give in and Chanyeol grins, relieved.

"Tonight? We could go to this place I saw in Nowon and chat over some drinks."

Three more or less enthusiastic 'yes' follow his suggestion and after agreeing on a time to meet up they disconnect, leaving Chanyeol to smile at his phone and get up to pour himself a pre-celebratory drink. The young heir steps in front of one of the panoramic windows and makes a toast to the view of a sunny and busy Seoul.

“To us, elevator girl. See you again soon.”

_...Way to sound creepy, Chanyeol, what the fuck. _


	5. Sour taste

The trip back home is a quiet one for Baekri and Junghwa. Ever since the brunette left the hotel where she spent an enjoyable time with her favorite idol group, she hasn’t blabbed as usual and, shockingly enough, she hasn’t spazzed about sitting next to Taeyeon for the whole afternoon as much as Junghwa mentally braced herself for. 

Junghwa observes her friend’s reflection in the train window across the aisle: Baekri is looking at some undetermined spot on the wagon without actually seeing it, her mind elsewhere and her eyebrows knit in deep thought, occasionally chewing her bottom lip. Sighing quietly, Junghwa decides to cautiously question the brunette.

“Baekri, did something happ--”

“That jerk!” the troubled girl explodes, so suddenly she makes the other passengers shoot them appalled and judgemental looks. 

Junghwa wants the floor to swallow her and be mangled by the speeding train. She burrows further into her seat and her jacket, turning slightly away as if to deny she knew the other girl. The ride proceeds silently and awkwardly so, considering Baekri and Junghwa usually chatter non-stop; it isn't until they resurface from the subway that Junghwa reprimands her best friend.

“Damn it, Ri! Your habit to yell always gets us in trouble!” the black haired girl hisses, eyes wide. Baekri has the decency to look sheepish and apologetic.

Junghwa sighs, “Don’t let that guy spoil your day, just forget about him. Remember you still have to talk our ears off about Girls’ Generation when we meet up with the guys at the bar, later on,” she reminds Baekri, making her smile.

“Actually, you know what? I’m thankful you have been so quiet so far: at least I don’t have to hear how embarrassingly starstruck you were more than once,” Junghwa teases. Baekri’s smile immediately falls and she shoves her friend none too gently, but they quickly link arms again, walking back to their apartments with renovated spirit.

(In the end, Baekri _does_ give an extended summary of that ~divine experience~ to a resigned Junghwa.)

 

 

“Hey, did I tell you that Taeyeon--”

“Yes”

“And that Tiffany--”

“YES! And that Sooyoung cursed when she spilled her tea, and...,” Baekri’s friends summarize, talking over each other. As contagious as Baekri’s enthusiasm is, and as happy and proud as they are for her fangirl accomplishment, they’ve had enough. For the couple of hours they've been holed up at the bar, they heard multiple times about what pastry Taeyeon picked first, how Seohyun likes her tea (Joonmyeon admittedly perked up a bit at that piece of information), and many other trivial things that the eight idols did earlier that day.

“It really has been an unforgettable day!” the Woman of the Day exclaims, almost spasming on her stool while once again relating the idols’ compliments to her voice, when a traitorous thought resurfaces. The bar isn’t noisy enough to muffle her mindless, “ _too bad for that asshole that almost made me be late and had the nerve to make fun of me the whole time”_. Baekri sighs, taking a swig of her beer without another word.

With a hearing better than bats, Taozi caught what she said. “Who even is this guy?” she wonders around a mouthful of salty peanuts.

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Baekri grumbles.

Quickly gulping down her own drink, Junghwa butts in with, “He said his name is Chanyeol,” unaffected by her best friend’s withering glare, rather grinning cheekily at her.

“So, let me get this straight: you finally had the chance to meet the loves of your life, your goddesses, the ones you spend almost your whole salary buying albums and merch of, and all you can think about is some idiot you’ve been stuck in the elevator with for a little while?”

This is one of the rare occasions Minseok has said more than a handful of words without being at gunpoint. Baekri would be moved, proud, even, if his tirade wasn’t directed at her.

At the girl’s silence -they all expected her to erupt in a _‘You’re right! Fuck him, let’s toast to Sonyeoshidae!’_ -, Yixing offers some comfort. “He’s some filthy rich brat, I doubt you’ll have the chance to meet him again. I wouldn’t risk an ulcer over him, if I were you.”

“Aww, you’re the only one who’s good to me!” Baekri coos and reaches across the round high table to squeeze the older guy’s hand, making him chuckle and the others at the table riot.

“Fine, fine! You all treat me well and are dear to me, okay?” she concedes, laughing while cowering from Junghwa and Taozi’s slaps on her arm.

“Elevator girl?!”

Eyes wide as saucers, Baekri focuses briefly on Yixing, as if to tell him _‘You were saying?’_ , before turning in slow motion to face the newcomer.


	6. Small world

Chanyeol has just stepped out of the shower when the elevator doors slide open and three people file in the penthouse. He pads to the entrance, leaving wet footprints in his wake.

“I should change the code without telling you guys. What if I was dancing around naked?” he grunts, voice quaking with each rubbing of the towel on his damp hair.

“As if we hadn’t seen it before,” Kyungsoo quips and makes himself at home on the closest leather armchair. Jongin contemplates sitting on an armrest, but opts for the couch on its immediate right, Sera plopping next to him.

“Seriously, dude, aren’t you cold? Summer is dwindling,” Chanyeol asks once he’s more presentable and joins his friends in the living room, where he notices Sera is wearing a crop top despite the chillier evenings.

“NoPe,” she insists, popping the P. The girl leans back more comfortably, showing off her bare flat stomach and the glittering piercing embedded in her navel. “Are we here to criticize my style or to indulge your creepy obsession for a stranger?”

“I just want to apologize to her!” Chanyeol groans, tired of seeing his genuine intentions not being believed. “...The fact that she’s pretty is a bonus,” he mutters, scratching his nape in badly concealed embarrassment and sitting on the free armchair. "By the way, what are you doing here? I thought we agreed to meet directly at the bar?"

"I bring offerings!" Sera chirps, fishing a small box from her clutch bag. "DNA and fingerprints kit! In case you wanted to extrapolate hints from the elevator to find your Cinderella," she explains, widening her eyes in fake innocence.

(Truth be told, they could find a way to take the girl’s fingerprints from the elevator panel, but a) he doesn’t want to give Sera the satisfaction of being right, and b) they aren’t the goddamn CSI.)

At Chanyeol's unimpressed look, who doesn’t even glance at the object in the girl’s hands, she relents, admitting, "It's just a chocolate box I got gifted, don't worry. As for why we're here, believe it or not but we met by chance in Itaewon and decided to walk here while we were at it."

"Riiiight…” the elder drawls, squinting at his friends, but quickly drops the topic and stands up, smoothing his pants. “Well, since I'm ready we can head out already."

Sera shoots her arms in the air to the cry of "Shotgun!"

“What are you on about?” Chanyeol blinks at her. “We’re taking the subway. Responsible drinking, Sera! We ain’t gonna drunk drive.”

“Jongin doesn’t even drink! He could drive us back to the safety of our abodes,” the girl argues, pouting pitifully at the mentioned guy, who shakes his head with a mischievous grin.

“Sometimes I think you hang out with me only for my car,” Chanyeol states flatly, dragging Sera to the elevator by her elbow. After a beat of silence, they snort and push each other playfully, the four of them filing in the elevator and heading to the garage.

  
  


“So, anything to start from?” Kyungsoo asks as soon as Chanyeol is back from ordering their drinks. They aren’t in some exclusive club with a private room and champagne flowing copious, but rather in a modest yet modern bar in an university district: leave the bling blings to more official occasions.

Raking his mind to remember any detail that could help them find the metaphorical needle in a haystack, Chanyeol tries to recall what was written on the piece of paper the girl was holding.

...Moshi moshi?...Yoshi?…Sushi…?

“SOSHI!”

Chanyeol exclaims so loudly, the couple at the table nearby turns to look at them. He didn’t seem to notice so he continues the conversation, elaborating, “She had a printed out paper about Soshi...isn’t it Sonyeoshidae? Girls’ Generation?”

“How can you not know one of South Korea’s greatest idol groups is in your hotel?” Jongin chuckles, nodding thankfully at the waitress who brought their drinks over. Chanyeol scoffs and sets on the table the beer he was about to drink to gesticulate more freely.

“First off, it’s not my hotel: i just happen to live there. Second, I haven’t seen throngs of fans camped in front of the hotel for the whole day. Third, I’m more of a 2NE1 fan, so i don’t keep up with other groups much.” He shrugs and leans back, forgetting he’s sitting on a bar stool and risking to topple.

“Well, you should, since they haven’t been very active lately…” the dancer murmurs around his soft drink, right as Kyungsoo smirks and adds treacherously, “2NE1 over SNSD? One more reason for the girl to hate your guts.”

At that, Chanyeol whines and, standing up pompously, walks away claiming he needs to go to the toilet.

“He likes her because she sassed him back,” Kyungsoo states as he takes a sip of his own drink. Jongin and Sera nod solemnly, and all three of them bottom up in honor of the still unknown girl: she’s a breath of fresh air from the trophy-wife wannabes that throw themselves at Chanyeol, only to be met by a wall of courteous indifference, so it doesn’t come as a surprise that this stranger tickled the elder’s interest, renowned for surrounding himself with honest people, even bluntly so.

  
  


Chanyeol steps out of the restroom with a relieved sigh. Dodging tray-carrying barmaids and more or less inebriated patrons, he’s walking back to his table when he overhears someone mentioning “some filthy rich brat”.

Feeling inexplicably involved, Chanyeol turns to scan the area, eyes falling on a table where two girls are playfully slapping the one between them. It’s the girl at the center that catches his attention, realizing with a start that that haircut and profile are somewhat familiar. Approaching them carefully, Chanyeol can now hear a voice that sounds considerably more cheerful and carefree than a few hours ago, but it’s definitely her.

Before he can even think of what to say to her, he calls out, “Elevator girl?!”

Chanyeol can see the way she freezes, and the identical masks of surprise etched on her friends’ faces; in particular, he locks eyes with the guy sitting opposite the feisty girl, holding the sharp eyed boy’s icing glare with a minute quirk of his lips. Chanyeol can’t help but explode in a boisterous laughter, that he later realises doesn’t really help in his quest to sincerely apologize to the girl and make himself look better in her eyes (and her friends, since they’re there).

Showing off all his charm, the heir turns to the girls sitting at the table nearby, asking if they would “be so kind to trade tables with my friends over there?” while pointedly waving his arm to catch either of those three’s attention and gesturing to sit at this other table when the girls agree, giggling stupidly as they leave.

(They will occasionally glance at Chanyeol -and the others- and talk behind hands for the rest of the night.)

“Where are my manners?” Chanyeol says when his own set of friends joins the lot of them, “My name is Chanyeol, and these are Sera, Kyungsoo and Jongin. If you don’t mind, I’d like to toast to a small world: only this way I could meet again the girl that stole my heart, mere hours after our fateful meeting in the elevator of the hotel where I live.”

Three smacks of hands over foreheads resonate in the busy bar as Chanyeol’s friends feel second, third and fourth hand embarrassment, itching to apologize for the cheesy speech on his behalf.

He raises his drink with a winning, bright grin, unfazed by the owlish stares his audience is giving him and zeroing on Baekri with a smitten smile on his face, a stark contrast with the turmoil of emotions that cross her face, until she settles for a scowl and a drawn-out, venomous, “You~”.

Chanyeol loves himself a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **From now on, updates will most likely be less consistent** : with this chapter I reached the end of what I managed to write and edit so far. I probably should’ve updated the fic with a different schedule, e.g. once a week, so i would’ve had more time to churn out the remaining ### chapters, but the damage is done ^^;;
> 
> [In other news, [I'm dead and gone](https://twitter.com/Blustery412/status/662926695708553218).]
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos ♥ I’ll try not to make you wait too long for the continuation of this fic.


	7. Bottoms up

The bigger the company, the more copiously alcohol flows (much to the delight of the bar owner’s wallet): it helps friendships to form and some people to get loose-lipped, despite the initial awkwardness and reticence, but others stay wary.

 

Baekri can’t believe _this guy_ \--fine, _Chanyeol_ \--and his rich ass friends happened to be in the same humble bar as her and her clique. On the same day they met, no less.

She’s observing her extended group of friends (more like her own friends and some strangers who approached them) and actively avoiding _the guy_ , when he props his head up on his hand, leaning just the slightest bit towards her sitting two people over, and says, “Penny for your thoughts?”

Baekri’s knee-jerk reaction is to reply with, “You can afford to spend more than one penny,” followed by a defiant gulp of her drink as she barely spares him a sideways glance.

To his credit, Chanyeol has kept a respectful distance and hasn’t annoyed her with pretentious flirting for the whole night, rather being entertaining and companionable towards everybody at the table. Baekri almost wishes he acted like an idiot like in the elevator...at least she’d have an excuse to be snarky and not pass for the bitch of the situation: she **is** friendly, but also tends to become hostile towards who, accidentally or not, embarrass her on their first meeting, and if it’s someone she finds attractive she unconsciously starts playing hard to get, even when they haven’t shown any sign of vague interest for her.

(Also, she’s genetically bitter towards rich people and their tendency to be so goddamn lucky in every _fucking_ thing, from their bank account to their appearance--even worse if they got minimal to no plastic surgery, to finding the pot at the end of a rainbow.)

_“So you said the two of you used to work together?”_

_“Yesh....at a perfume shop, in a mall...but she abandoned me to wait tables~”_

_“Oh, really? Where? I like to try new places to eat at, maybe I could swing by sometimes.”_

_“It’s a pretty good restaurant in Gyeongun-dong, near a…”_

  
Yixing, Joonmyeon and Taozi warmed up to Chanyeol and his friends quick enough, but that’s a given (Taozi, in particular, looks extremely fond of Sera and her style). Junghwa, the traitor, is all smiles and loud laughter, managing to crack the stoic Kyungsoo (she’s always friendly, but the several cocktails she downed turned her volume up). Only Minseok, bless his older-brother-syndrome, is cordial but still guarded, silently assessing the sincerity in the words and behavior of the potential new friends; even he, though, isn’t quite immune to Sera’s model-like proportions (her legs are almost as long as Baekri is tall, dammit), throwing shy and furtive glances at the younger girl every now and then.

Baekri sighs: she’s alone in this.

_“Are you all in college?”_

_“NO! The guys are done already, it’s us girls still stuck in books~”_

_“What do you study?”_

_“Music! And Business for Baekri, and Sociology for Taozi~”_

  
Considering the unfolding of the events, Sera is suspicious of Chanyeol’s choice for a bar when he suggested to go out and talk about his love life mishaps. Sure, they never stick to the same place for drinks, but it **is** one hell of a coincidence that, of all the clubs available and of the millions of people living in the capital, he goes and picks one in an university district and is lucky enough to meet again the girl he was looking for.

“Chanyeol,” Sera whispers, unceremoniously digging a pointy elbow into his arm, “you knew you could find her here, didn’t you?”

The elder excuses himself from the conversation with Joonmyeon and Jongin to look at Sera in earnest, but his tone is wry when he states, “Unlike you _‘casually meeting’_ Kyungsoo and Jongin in Itaewon, I _really_ didn’t know she would be here, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked for help from you guys.”

They throw daggers at each other for a full minute, mutely daring each other to cave, until Sera appears convinced of Chanyeol’s words and takes a nonchalant sip of her drink (...to avoid admitting she _did_ follow Jongin and Kyungsoo, but only after she casually saw them in the district, that much is true).

Sera pretends not to notice, but she’s well aware of the heavy stares Baekri throws their way from above the glass rim during their exchange, looking like she wants to shoot laser beams from her eyes whenever Sera or Chanyeol lean against each other and brush lips against ears to whisper.

Whether she’s just imagining it or Baekri really is starting to show a budding jealousy (alcohol-influenced, maybe, but they take what they can get), Sera can’t help widening her smirk when the older girl glares at her briefly, effectively making the brunette bristle even more.

_Filed under: “you might have a chance, Chanyeol. Fighting!”_

  
_“Baekri almost described your friend like the devil incarnate, but he’s nice...you’re all nice.”_

_“Why thank you. Haha, was he really that awful?”_

 

 _‘Cross my heart I can drop dead’_ , or however the saying goes, Chanyeol did not know “elevator girl” would be there, no matter how skeptical the others at the table are. Regardless, he must’ve saved a country in a previous life for getting a second chance so quickly.

Baekri’s--he can finally put a name to a face--feistiness is subdued by tiredness and many drinks, but by no means is she any less sharp tongued when she quickly shuts down almost every single one of Chanyeol’s attempts at striking a conversation.

He won’t give up. He feels like he’s trying to tame a tigress, but Chanyeol is sure he’ll be able to redeem himself if only Baekri gave him the time of day, ready even now to agree to back off if she still doesn’t want to go out with him after they got to know each other.

They’re all at different levels of drunkenness and the risk to forget any agreement to a truce is high, as is being told to fuck off once and for all and getting splashed in the face with a drink, so Chanyeol can only count  on the newly formed friendship with Baekri’s friends to keep in touch: he can’t deny it sounds stalkerish, but he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve and he wants Baekri to see it, even if it means risking to rip it in the process.

(Whoa, alcohol makes Chanyeol sound deep and sentimental. And desperate.)

  
_“The two of you look good together!”_

_“...”_

Growing up next door to each other means Minseok feels protective of Baekri like of his own sister, the two girls happening to be the same age; he has been teased relentlessly for his “older brother syndrome”, but his subtle protection has saved Baekri’s ass several times, so she can’t really complain.

It isn’t surprising that Minseok has observed every little demeanor of the tall, slightly cocky, charming stranger for the whole night. So far Chanyeol hasn’t given them any reason to think he’d hurt Baekri: if anything, he looks like he’s yearning to apologize to her for his assholery of that afternoon, but better safe than sorry. More than once does the eldest lock eyes with Chanyeol, letting the younger guy know that _‘I’m watching you, don’t try any tricks’_ without uttering a word and receiving a partly polite, partly smug look in return.

The smugness is caused, much to Minseok’s chagrin, by Chanyeol noticing how the elder’s piercing gaze becomes softer and timid every time he glances at the beautiful Sera, sitting right next to Chanyeol.

(What Minseok doesn’t know, though, is that the girl peeks at the pretty eyed man, too, and Chanyeol is on the edge of his seat -both literally and figuratively- to play matchmaker with them.)

...Things are getting awkward and Minseok’s leverage is slipping. Darn it.

_“Shall we exchange numbers?”_

_“Sure! You look more sober than me, type yours in my phone and ring yourself...”_

  
Jongin sips his soda as he looks at his old and new friends, some half slump on the table and drinks barely in their grasps, some still laughing and (relatively) hyper despite it being so late into the night. He feels a weight on his side and notices only then that Kyungsoo is nodding off as Joonnmyeon drones on and on, better at holding his liquor than Jongin would’ve given him credit for.

“I think you lot have drunk enough, better get going,” the black haired boy exhorts, elbowing softly the guys at his sides and standing up, reaching out to shake Sera’s shoulder as well; she whines but accomplishes, pulling Taozi up as well. One by one, the ten young people raise from their seats and are herded outside by Jongin as Chanyeol, Minseok and Joonmyeon stay behind to pay.

(The heir is all but forced to split the bill with the other two, instead of paying it all by himself like he planned to: the magic words are “Baekri wouldn’t want you to.”)

They say their goodbyes with sloppy hugs and promises to keep in contact, and they split to fetch a taxi or retrieve the car parked two blocks over.


	8. Aftermath

Shadows alternate with headlights and neon signs across the sleepy faces of the passengers as Jongin drives his friends back to Chanyeol’s place, looking forward to crash in his spare bedrooms. Yes, _bedroom **S**_ , because Chanyeol is a rich _sonova_ with more than a guest room in his penthouse on top of an exclusive hotel.

(As if Jongin and co. have room to talk, _tsk_.)

Thinking back to the night out they just had, odds really have been in Chanyeol’s favor for him to be able to meet his Juliet-- _ahhh, the cringe_ \---not long after their first, clumsy encounter. They still can’t believe it.

...Neither can they believe how stubborn Baekri is: while he agrees Chanyeol can be a handful once he sheds his professional persona, and only with his family and closest friends, Jongin thinks it’s unfair she pidgeonholes Chanyeol in the “asshole rolling in money” category and hence gives him the cold shoulder. With some reservations, Jongin decides that, if Kyungsoo and Sera are too hungover to remember any information they extrapolated from Baekri’s friends, he will tell Chanyeol what he remembers and together will work on a plan to allow the heir to at least say sorry ( _properly_ , because for the whole night he tried but she kept shrugging him off, _good grief_ ).

Halfway home, Jongin thought they were all mostly asleep when the virtual silence in the car is interrupted.

“I still don’t know her well, but I wouldn’t inflict you on Becky,”  Sera mutters drunkenly from the backseat, completely out of the blue since she has been snoring softly a minute ago. That’s enough to rouse Chanyeol and Kyungsoo in a state of almost consciousness.

“Her name is _Baekri_ , not Becky,” Jongin supplies helpfully from the driver’s seat, snorting.

Chanyeol blinks himself a bit more awake and, once his brain registers what the brat said, he gasps, “I’m really charming!”

Three eyebrows raise at his statement. From her half-slumped position against Chanyeol, Sera sits up straighter to look at him better, while Kyungsoo turns on his seat to level the elder with one of his looks; Jongin glances at Chanyeol through the rear-view mirror, but otherwise keeps staring at the street ahead.

Deadpan, Kyungsoo states, very matter-of-factly, “You forget we know the _real you_.”

“What is that even supposed to---”

“Those cougars and bimbos stroke your ego only to try to get in your pants.” Sera goes for the jugular...

“And wallet.” ...while Jongin adds salt to the wound.

3 vs 1: Chanyeol doesn’t really stand a chance (but he knows his friends are right), so he moves the attention to someone else.

“At least I’m _trying_ , unlike _you_ creeping on Minseok from afar,” he accuses, pointing a finger more towards the car door handle than Sera and smirking drunkenly. She blushes violently, floundering to come up with some lies, but Chanyeol’s attention already moved somewhere else.

“And you!” he shoves his long arms forward, harshly patting the front seats and making Kyungsoo recoil from his comfortable position, who then glares at the beanpole with slightly unfocused eyes. Jongin, too, jumps a bit, because no matter how used he should be by now, he’s easily startled.

“The UST between you two is well beyond Namsan Tower level, do something about it,” Chanyeol orders, folding his arms with a smug expression.

Jongin may or may not have pressed on the accelerator slightly more to get to Chanyeol’s place quicker and finally go to sleep, wishingbeggingpraying this conversation will be forgotten come the morning.

 

  
 

Baekri snorts herself awake following an high pitched laughter pretty much **in** her ear. She smacks her lips to fight their dryness as she looks around, noticing she’s sandwiched between Junghwa and Taozi on a bench; not so distant memories of calling for a couple of taxis and hanging around while waiting for them flood back in as she sits up straighter, past the point of caring if her friends noticed her less than elegant posture and noises.

Taozi is surprisingly still awake, chattering up a storm and always down for some tipsy gossiping. Baekri would’ve been less miffed if they didn’t have to talk about _the guy_ or dig up in her past again.

As if they rehearsed this conversation already (or maybe he’s so whipped he goes along with whatever the raven haired girl says), Joonmyeon observes, “I find it quite ironic how the chaser is now potentially being chased.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Baekri stubbornly denies all allegations, ignoring Junghwa’s guffaw and consequent splutter when the brunette elbows her side.

“Come on, Chanyeol was this close to go on his knees and beg you to go out with him. I bet he would’ve accepted to wear a collar if you wanted him to,” Junghwa adds with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, causing everyone but Baekri to laugh; said girl is scowling, mostly for show because Junghwa’s rated 19 humor never fails to have her in stitches, and the mental imagery is quite... _ahem_.

“Remember when you chased that tall piece of Chinese-Canadian ass?” Taozi reminds her (un)helpfully, impish grin stretching her glossy lips.

“What are you even saying,” Baekri snorts at her choice of words.

(“What ass?” Yixing points out quietly, but Junghwa and Minseok, standing closer to him, heard it and are now snorting in laughter.)

“Or that lifeguard in Busan, and that barista in Daegu. You wore them out until they asked you out,” the younger girl adds, unrelenting.

Baekri looks up at Joonmyeon, gritting her teeth. “Make your girlfriend shut up or I will.” She loves her cat vs. dog friendship with Taozi, but sometimes it goes too far, on both sides. Baekri gives her the benefit of the drunk doubt, because Taozi is a lightweight who loses her filter with a simple wine cooler, but they all know how shitty Baekri felt after the end of her relationship with Kris, so Taozi’s words sting more.

They fall in a slightly tense silence, broken only by the cars driving by, until Baekri takes it upon herself to break it.

“Yeah, well, too bad I got him as my English TA after we broke up. Talk about awkward,” she comments self-deprecatingly, a forceful note in her throaty laugh.

The tension is broken by the taxis parking by the curb and the group splits since they live in different directions. A tight hug and a whispered _‘I’m sorry’_ are enough for Taozi and Baekri to make up and separate without hard feelings.

Besides, the mean hangover the younger girl will wake up with is karma enough to satisfy Baekri.


	9. Hangover

Chanyeol nods at the giggly front desk girl, quickly turning in a smile the grimace caused by the slight movement of his head and that heightened his throbbing headache. He mentally pats himself for the presence of mind of wearing sunglasses and calling a chauffeur to drive him to the Park headquarters; he feels like death, but a still responsible one.

“Mr Park! Mr Park!”

 _Oh, for fuck’s sake_. Chanyeol just put his nose out of the elevator and he feels so attacked right now.

“Yes, Miss Lim?”

It’s always too early to be subjected to his father’s secretary’s shrill voice, but today it’s an even less pleasant experience. Chanyeol is regretting every single drop of alcohol he ingested the previous night.

(Who thought drinking in the middle of the week was a good idea?

Oh, right, there _was_ a reason to celebrate.)

He turns towards the minute woman with his best relaxed smile, blinking himself awake and fighting his nausea without being too obvious. It must’ve worked, because she colors and can barely hold his gaze while she stammers, “These are the documents for today’s meeting with that chinese company...”

“Thank you, Miss Lim.”

Chanyeol takes the folder without letting the secretary finish and dismisses her politely. Before stepping in ~~hell~~ the meeting room, the most urgent incombence is reaching the break room and fetch an aspirin, since he was too zombified to function and remember where he put his medicines.

(Weren’t he a living dead, he would’ve had the sense to open the mirrored cabinet in his bathroom, the one where he checks his reflection every darn morning as he gets ready.)

“Hey, Chanyeol!”

The addressed young man gurgles and sluggishly brings his hands up to cover his ears, even if the person who called him is still several feet away and looking at him concerned. Chanyeol walks towards him, making shushing noises and gestures.

“Ssshh, Luhan, too loud.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” his older collaborator deadpans, “but I have to admit you look really smashed. What fine liquors do spoiled brats drink that us paupers will never enjoy and have to make do with cheap shots?” Luhan shakes his head, mockingly condescending.

“Your salary doesn’t consist of breadcrumbs, as far as I know,” Chanyeol bites back, playing along, as they stop briefly to get something for his headache. “It’s well enough to treat that girl you met to a nice evening out,” he adds with a saucy wiggle of his eyebrows (that he regrets. Ow, his eyeballs.)

“Speaking of which, did you and your friends devise a plan to get a hold of your Cinderella?” Luhan asks in return. Both young men happened to meet interesting girls on the same day and in the hotel where the heir lives, no less: they exchanged confidences when Luhan brought Chanyeol the umpteenth document directly at home, the previous day.

“I must be on Lady Luck’s good side because...remember I said the gang and I would’ve discussed over some drinks how to find Elevator Girl again?” They approach the smaller meeting room, where they’ll wait for the company’s associates to arrive. “Well, she was at the same bar we went, with her own friends,” Chanyeol informs Luhan, his chest puffed and shoulders almost reaching his impressive ears.

“Holy shit, dude!” the salesman exclaims, unable to hold himself back. The horrified and severe glare Park senior’s secretary sends him makes him flush, since he isn’t supposed to be on such close terms with the second in command. They quickly enter the room and seat at the medium sized black table, one next to the other.

Luhan mutters, “I always said it’s unfair for already lucky people to have all the fortunes,” without real bite in his words. Chanyeol laughs a bit guiltily; he’s saved from a potentially awkward silence by a text message.

 

> FROM: KKAMONG
> 
> Sera remembered where Baekri works:
> 
> italian restaurant in Gyeongun-dong, near an
> 
> appliances store and the flower shop at the corner.

Chanyeol’s eyes light up. He was about to say how nauseous he felt and that the mere thought of eating for the medicine to work better made him sick, but _nevermind_!

“Food is a better hangover method than pills,” he says cryptically, showing Luhan his phone. The chinese man skims the text with his eyes growing bigger as he reads, immediately looking up at Chanyeol with an accomplice grin.

“Totally.”

The elevator pings, and greetings can be heard faintly from the other side of the glass walls of the meeting room. Chanyeol and Luhan’s lips twist dejectedly.

“Come on, brave a couple of hours of Power Points, then you can go check out this new restaurant~” the elder says comfortingly, the real meaning of his words duly noted.

Chanyeol sighs and holds his belly mindlessly.

“Ah, I’m hungry.”


	10. Rematch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i'm sooooo sorry for disappearing ;A; i expected updates to be less back to back, compared to the first few, but not for so many months to pass before i got around to type again ＿ﾉ乙(､ﾝ､)_
> 
> things should finally get in motion in the next chapter! (when it will be up,it's a mystery)

What started as a meh day for Baekri, the queasiness from a night of drinking almost convincing her to sleep in, takes a turn for the better when she reads her emails and discovers she got a better mark on her film review than she hoped for. With renovated spirits and a double coating of BB cream to cover her eyebags, she braves the commute to work (listening to Girls’ Generation’s “You Think” on loop always pumps her up--any resemblance to real events and/or people is purely coincidental); in addition, the Mastiff has been in a strangely good mood since her arrival, and no assholes have stepped in the restaurant so far.

It’s with a broad smile that she leaves the kitchen and heads back to her section, more specifically to a table recently occupied by a lone guy who’s sitting with his back towards her.

Even Baekri’s untrained eyes can see his clothes are fitted and designer. The closer to him she gets, the more convinced she is that he looks kinda out of place here: this restaurant may be a bit above average, but they neither have crystals, silverware and fine china, nor serve champagne and the minuscule but overpriced dishes he surely is used to.

Pushing the mild bitterness her broke college student self is feeling to the side, Baekri fetches a menu and fishes from her black apron a notepad, turning it to a new page to write down the orders. She finally stops by the table and greets the new client with a bow and a smile.

“Welcome to Emilia’s! I’m Baekri, your waitress…”

The girl trails off when a familiar face looks up from his phone--she gotta give it to him, his surprised reaction can almost pass for genuine. Needless to say, her smile slips off as she stares at who is sitting in front of her, menu frozen in mid air, opposed to the legitimately glowing expression the young man is sporting.

“Baekri! Fancy meeting you here.”

Chanyeol, the stupid yet attractive guy that partially spoiled her once-in-a-lifetime experience with Girls’ Generation as well as her night out with her friends, all in less than twelve hours, seems determined to stay in Baekri’s life.

(Stay? He has yet to officially get in her life.)

“See? I didn’t need a butterfly net to catch your name, after all,” he winks, cheekily referring to the brunette’s witty comeback when they separated without a proper introduction after their first encounter. How can he still remember their conversation, what the hell. Such a creep.

...As if Baekri didn’t mull over their exchange all of yesterday and didn’t imagine different outcomes, girl, please.

“What are you doing here?!” she hisses, careful not to get caught by the head server or the other patrons talking like that to a client. “Are you stalking me? Once is an accident, twice is suspicious, thrice is restraining order worthy,” she threatens, impatient to smack Chanyeol upside the head with the menu.

“Well, considering it’s midday, I’m almost positive I’m out for a bite,” Chanyeol replies affably, not once breaking eye contact as he rests his chin on a propped arm, playful smile contrasting Baekri’s strained, professional one.

The waitress takes a deep, calming breath and asks through gritted teeth, “Would you like to order?”

Chanyeol, determined to keep the girl around for as long as possible, rather than reading the menu he asks for a detailed list of Baekri’s suggestions, not settling for the couple of quick and deadpan descriptions she gives as her body is mostly turned to the kitchen, wishing for a quick escape.

A phone going off is Baekri’s saving grace, as it distracts Chanyeol long enough (a split second to check if it really was him who received a message, but hey, she takes what she can get) to allow her to retrieve the unopened menu and throw a, “Spaghetti con vongole and fritto misto, correct?” behind her back, not waiting for his reply and hurrying to the kitchen. She almost jumps a meter in the air when Chanyeol’s fingers manage to touch her wrist delicately before she can escape, followed by a request for whatever white wine they have.

Chanyeol’s smile morphs in a chuckle when he hears Baekri hiss, “I’ll bring you a Pinot laced with cyanide, I swear to God,” as she stalks away. He finally taps his phone back to life to see it was Kyungsoo who texted him.

> _FROM: SOOPERIOR_
> 
> _Can’t you let the poor girl work in peace?_

His first reaction is to look around for his best friend’s familiar face, but coming up short Chanyeol writes back.

> _how did u kno im w baekri? r u @ the restaurant 2?_

(Yes, the 23-years-old heir to one of South Korea’s main shipping companies occasionally still texts like a middle schooler.)

> _FROM: SOOPERIOR_
> 
> _Jongin, and nope._
> 
> _Your strategy is going to work against you._
> 
> _Let her breathe, I bet she’s already freaked out by the many coincidences of your run-ins._

Chanyeol doesn’t reply, but he knows Kyungsoo is once again right--how can he give good relationship advice when he himself is still waltzing around a certain dark haired traditional dancer younger than him by a year, it still boggles Chanyeol’s mind.

(That’s called common sense, actually.)

He’s still mulling over the messages he received, so his reaction to Baekri’s arrival with his primo piatto is much more subdued than either of them expected. Warily, the waitress pours some wine and wishes buon appetito before leaving, both guarded and relieved of such sudden change of behavior in the usually (as far as she can tell) hyper guy.

These confused feelings don’t abandon Baekri for the rest of her turn, when Chanyeol had long left with a polite nod of his head and a ‘grazie’, without further comments that push all of the girl’s buttons, nor a word about the substantial tip hidden beneath the napkin. She’s perplexed to the point she’s tempted to ask one of her friends for Chanyeol’s number (Baekri stubbornly refused to save it the previous night, when their groups exchanged contacts), but she’s also pretty sure she’ll see him again soon, so she doesn’t worry. Much.


	11. FINE!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. I seriously have no excuses. Yeah, typing out the general gist and some dialogues for each chapter is better than nothing but it's taking forever, I'm literally on my knees to apologize and thank you for your patience.  
> Without further ado, here we go with chapter 11! It's the last of the slooow build up part ~~fucking finally~~ ! *\o/*

‘Soon’ turned out to be a whole month before Chanyeol visited next. Baekri won’t admit, not even at gunpoint, to have been expecting the smartly dressed, overgrown puppy to start showing up every day for lunch. She feels her self pep talks to endure his teasing and kindergarten-style flirting going to waste, not to mention being inexplicably miffed at the radio silence on Chanyeol’s side, since he, surprisingly enough, hasn’t texted or called Baekri once in the time he and his friends have had her number.

Baekri knew the young man’s apparent disappearance was suspicious. She also knew the more relaxed environment as of lately was too good to be true: there she is, the head server, barking orders left and right for an immaculate service in sight of Very Important Guests coming over, demanding even more care in cooking, cleaning and attending since earlier that morning. Every tinkle of the entrance bell startles the waiters, wrung up in suspense for who these V.I.G. could possibly be to turn their humble restaurant in the barracks from Full Metal Jacket.

...Turns out Chanyeol & friends are the reason behind today’s transformation of the head server into a Lieutenant, and reason number whatever for Baekri to hate rich bitchasses. The brunette finds out only now that the brooding Kyungsoo, who mostly nodded along and barely bared his teeth in a smile only after a bottle of soju or three the night their groups got acquainted, is the spawn of the family at the head of the South Korean food industry. This is all the leverage the guys need (and then some) to hint at the desire for a chef treatment: table set up elegantly in a corner of the kitchen, they’ll be served and worshipped by a personal waiter, who’ll bring them cornucopias of freshly made delicacies and liters of their finest wines while wearing a white tunic and slave sandals.

(If that wasn’t clear already, Baekri has a penchant for exaggerations.)

_ With all the Michelin starred restaurants in the city, did they really need to come to this modest one? _ Baekri thinks bitterly as she stands in line with the other waiters, waiting to be executed-- I mean, to know who’ll have the honor to serve the almighty Do Kyungsoo and his equally important guests.

In retrospect, Baekri should’ve imagined Chanyeol would come back with a bang as none other than a V.I.G.. Now that the thorn in her side is here, however, she wishes he weren’t, the smidge of worry and curiosity over his vanishing going straight out of the window. The asshole brought out the big guns, damn him.

Doing her darnest to keep her face straight in front of the disgustingly servile tone their leader is showing, Baekri finds herself locking eyes with Chanyeol & co.--Chanyeol’s amused face, Sera’s bored expression, Jongin’s almost apologetic one, and the inscrutable Kyungsoo who occasionally interacts with the Mastiff--until an elbow in the ribs snaps the waitress’ attention back on Mrs Choi, who’s looking at her with owlish eyes while nodding subtly in the guests’ direction.

“As I was saying,” the head server repeats with a warning tone that doesn’t go unnoticed to anyone present, “Baekri will be more than glad to assist you, as you requested--”

( _ Why didn’t I pay attention, damn it, _ Baekri muses bitterly.  _ Did they seriously single me out? _ )

“I wish you an enjoyable meal at Emilia’s,” the older woman concludes with a deep bow, before herding everyone but Baekri back to their workstations.

_ ‘Ew, woman, don’t you have some self respect? The owners wouldn’t have been such bootlickers. Why did they have to be on some business trip today, of all days?’ _ the girl thinks, almost disgusted. Knowing she’d get her ass fired if she doesn’t do her damn job, Baekri turns affably to the four brats, pretending not to be acquainted with them and throwing every resentment for their bank accounts behind herself.

“Welcome to Emilia’s. I’m Baekri, your waitress. Today’s specials are a delicious  _ risotto al nero di seppia… _ ”

  
  


Every now and again a stage-whispered “Baekri!” would resonate from the table in the kitchen corner, from none other than Chanyeol, the human embodiment of a tail-wagging Labrador. Well, there it goes Baekri’s pretense of not knowing them; she should’ve expected it, for the heir to constantly beckon her over for the most inane things: from a refill of breadsticks, that the waitress was pretty sure no one at the table ate but they still disappeared in thin air, to a change of cutlery for supposed smudges that their busser would pop a vein over, knowing how anal about cleanliness he is.

Eventually, some time between the  _ secondo  _ and the dessert, Sera kicks Chanyeol in Kyungsoo’s stead, the heir visibly deflating with a sheepish expression on his face under the shorter guy’s glare.

Baekri feels her facial muscles completely frozen in the most forced smile you can think of. All through the meal she bit her tongue to avoid saying what she really wanted to, keeping herself sane by imagining to lean on the table in front of Chanyeol and with a flirty quirk of her lips whisper,

_ ‘You and your musketeers can kindly go the fuck off.’ _

The four plates of tiramisù in front of Baekri make her mouth water, but she keeps strong, knowing that her shift is almost over and that the source of all her struggles will be gone by then as well; she’ll finally be able to savor every single spoonful of it as a well deserved reward for keeping her tongue on a leash during service. The waitress brings the desserts to their Very Important Guests and with a more chipper,  _ ‘Enjoy,’ _ is about to leave when Kyungsoo (!!!he talks!!!) stops her, even inviting her to sit down with them. They both automatically turn towards The Mastiff, who has been watching their exchange  but mostly Baekri like a hawk, and Kyungsoo very pointedly tugs Baekri’s wrist down, never breaking eye contact with Mrs Choi as if to dare her to butt in. Once they’re sure they won’t be interrupted, and after the serious looking guest insisted Baekri grabbed a dish of tiramisù for herself as well (“It’s on me, don’t worry.”), the five of them sit down for a chat--or, as Chanyeol called it, an intervention.

“First of all, I’d like to apologize for my behavior,” the heir starts, hands joined in remorse and sincerity.

“Again,” Sera sing-songs around her bite of dessert. Baekri absentmindedly notes the younger girl’s pleased noises, making sure to report to Seunghwan for another successful dish.

“Second,” Chanyeol continues, as if he hasn’t been interrupted, determined to spill what he wanted to say since their second encounter at the bar, “I hope we can start over, put our first meeting and my mischievousness behind ourselves. I find you very interesting, Baekri, and I wish you’ll give me a chance to become more acquainted. All I ask for is  _ one _ date, and if it’ll turn out really awful for you I’ll step aside and leave you alone. Pinky promise.”

Baekri is left speechless by Chanyeol’s earnestness and the underlying insecurity beneath  an uncharacteristically bashful smile. She locks eyes with him, as if trying to find the littlest trace of insincerity that will give her an excuse to bail on him, but all Baekri sees is a child at heart with too long limbs clad in fancy clothes, and soon enough she finds her lips pull up in an exasperated yet approving smile. But Byun Baekri doesn’t go down without a fight.

“Fine! I’ll go out with you!” she agrees in the most standoffish tone she can muster. Too bad it doesn’t reflect on her still smiling face, that makes Chanyeol’s grin turn broader.

“Tell me when and where, I’ll be there,” he states, eyes sparkling in barely contained excitement. He wrings his hands tighter, fighting the urge to reach out for Baekri. The waitress exhales, raking her mind to think of an ideal time and place, when she remembers the following afternoon she’s free.

“My classes end at 2 PM tomorrow. I go to Kyunghee University, see you there?” Baekri eventually reveals, sporting a challenging smirk. Her intentions to fluster the tall boy evaporate in front of his dazzling, enthusiastic smile.

“Of course!”

 

(At the same table, completely ignored for the past five minutes, Kyungsoo, Jongin and Sera have silently enjoyed their tiramisù like they would popcorn in front of a rom-com.

Only one thought crossed their mind:  _ Finally _ .)


End file.
